


The Wrong Line

by BillHadersLamestFan (JenTheSnarryShipper)



Category: Bill Hader - Fandom, IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT (Movies - Muschietti) RPF, IT - Stephen King, finn wolfhard - Fandom
Genre: Bill Hader - Freeform, Crying, Finn Wolfhard - Freeform, Gay, M/M, Penetration, Size Kink, i'm sorry bill hader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21600337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenTheSnarryShipper/pseuds/BillHadersLamestFan
Summary: Inspired by problematic_pleasures, "i cannot get out, said the starling'.  This is a fic about Finn Wolfhard and Bill Hader being romantic with each other.  Please don't read if you're not into that idea. I also don’t know BIll Hader or Finn Wolfhard, so this is fictional obviously.If either actors happen to come across this, I am deeply sorry. There is no excuse, except it’s really hot! Lmao
Relationships: Bill Hader/Finn Wolfhard
Comments: 7
Kudos: 34





	The Wrong Line

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ: This is about Finn Wolfhard who (in this fic) is 18 along with Bill Hader. They are romantic with each other. Please do not read if you won't like that.  
Finn contacts Bill after an amount of years.

** _The Wrong Line_ **

* * *

It’s only a day until Finn turns eighteen. He should be happy—but he isn’t. 

Ever since he met and worked with Bill Hader, he’s had a bit of an obsession with the older man.

Finn didn’t actually _think_ he would ever meet Bill. It just so happened that Bill wanted the part of Richie Tozier, his older self, in _IT: Chapter Two_. He never expected any of it to actually _happen_, though. He knew how Hollywood worked—it was corrupt, and, despite the glamour of it all, it was nearly impossible for things to go exactly how you imagined it from the start. 

Out of an extraordinary exception, Bill Hader was enthusiastic about the part, charmed by the idea of playing Richie. Finn remembers when Muschietti told him the news. Finn sincerely laughed, muttering a _yeah, right_. 

The day he was supposed to meet Bill, he stared at himself in the mirror for an embarrassingly long chunk of time. All those years ago, he was in denial, but now he knows that he was trying to impress Bill. When they finally met, it was less of a dream, more real than Finn had imagined. 

Bill’s laugh was extremely shy in reality—when he laughed for too long, to his standards, he got embarrassed. His smile was charming in an awkward way, and sometimes he stuck his hands in his pockets out of nervousness. When Bill would talk to Finn, it was like an episode of _The Twilight Zone_. The two males were so alike, it seemed surreal. 

Simultaneously, there was a degree of hesitancy between the two. Something unspoken, yet definitively present. It was as if there was a fine line that Bill drew in the sand, but sometimes, in those hidden off-camera moments, that line would get washed away. Then, it was drawn again, harsher and harsher, but it didn’t matter—because every time their emotions would get too high, the waves would come crashing, and the line would disappear. 

An innocent hug would elicit blood rushing to their faces. A simple touch on the shoulder—and Finn would smile too eagerly—and Bill would actually smile back with something kind in his eyes. The tone of his voice would fluctuate as if he was a teenager, instead of a 40-something-year-old-man. His pulse would change rapidly, and, he would always walk away to draw that mental line—the one he refused to look further into for the sake of his own sanity. Waves of shame cooled him off after wanking to a touch, or a smile, or a laugh, from Finn Wolfhard. 

There was no excuse, and after each private session, he swore he’d never sink so low again.

Attraction was impossible, because he was old, and Finn was too fucking young, and that was that. Finn understood it, but he admittedly pushed for more contact, looking for any excuse to talk or touch or look at Bill. After all, they were friends. Friends did all of those things—and Bill called him his good friend. 

Yes, it was definitive, but it was unspoken.

Bill knows about Finn’s eighteenth birthday. He has it on his mental calendar, but nowhere documented. It’s not something he should care about, but he does anyway. He always pushes it out of his mind, listening to the sound of reason. 

The problem is, Finn is his good friend. It shouldn’t be a problem—not for a divorced father of three. It should be anything but a problem. He hasn’t actually talked to Finn in at least a year, maybe two. He feels a pressure _this_ year, so he figures, that’s where the thoughts are coming from. 

Bill has come to terms with the fact that, like with his anxiety, he can’t change the way he reacts to certain things. He can’t erase this attraction, and he can’t erase his anxiety. He just has to live with it and never tell _anyone_, because, god…what a fucking mess _that_ would be. 

_It’s just a thought—get ahold of yourself,_ Bill thinks. But, there is a cloud over him—an invisible cloud—he can’t quite place it. A chill goes up his spine—why is he thinking of Finn, after all this time? Why is he suddenly remembering his birthday? It’s strange, even to him, that he could still care about that. 

His entire body jolts, as if he saw a big spider in front of his face. He struggles to steady himself, and he looks down.

His phone starts to ring.

**BH/FW/BH/FW/BH**

Finn is holding his phone loosely in his hands. He breathes.

  
Bill’s helped him so much, especially on the set of _IT: Chapter Two_. He’s been unbelievable in advice and support. Most importantly, Bill is his good friend. Best friend? Maybe if they could hang out more often. Bill is always crazy busy, and Finn is busy enough not to have much of a social life outside of acting. He can’t imagine having three children _and_ being an actor. 

Finn has had some issues with his identity lately, and he knows that Bill has had some experience with guys—even if it _was_ on camera. Finn tried to think of all those roles, other than Richie. There was Stefon, Milo from _The Skeleton Twins_, and he has kissed plenty of guys on the set of SNL other than Seth Meyers. 

He knows that kissing men doesn’t equate to having an attraction to men. He _knows_ that Bill has never said he’s anything but straight. Finn’s friends are mostly teenagers. Bill’s a grown man. Maybe that’s why Finn needs someone older to talk to, who’s already explored their sexuality. Someone who’s been through more of life, so that Finn can figure himself out.

His hands are grasping his phone. He wants to call Bill. But…he should wait. Just one more day until his eighteenth birthday. He sighs—it echoes in his mind and seems to bounce off the walls back to him. He feels alone. 

Maybe Finn can’t wait on this. He supposes he could always call Bill now, to make plans to talk to him _after_ today. Yeah, that was it. He’d do that.

He was sitting on his bed when he finally (_almost_ accidentally) pushed the green call button. He cleared his throat. 

“Hey! This is Bill…” There’s a small pause.

“Hi—” Finn interjects.

“Gotcha! This is just my voicemail. Leave a message at the beep.” There’s a fake _beeeeep_ that is _obviously_ Bill’s voice, followed by the phone’s beep. 

Even though Finn feels a little stupid for getting duped, he takes a deep breath and starts. “Uh, hey! It’s Finn…Wolfhard. Can you call me back? By the way, you’re such a douchebag on your voicemail. I mean, _you’re_ not a douchebag. Okay, bye!” 

Finn slaps his forehead. That was terrible. Did he just call Bill a douchebag? _Fuck_.

Just under two minutes later, Finn nearly jumps at his ringtone (which just sounds like a normal phone). His phone says it’s Bill Hader. “Fuck,” Finn curses before answering.

“Hiiii.” He says in an elongated groan. Despite it, he hears Bill’s laughter. 

“Oh my god, man! Your message cracked me up so hard!” Bill says through his fit of laughter. He stops laughing. “Hey, isn’t it your birthday tomorrow? Happy early birthday!” Bill pretends not to know, but he’s had it on his mind, wondering if he should do something for Finn. 

Finn laughed, “Yeah, thank you! Oh and I’m sorry about that…you’re _not_ a douchebag! I did _not_ mean that.”

“We both know that is a lie, Finn Wolf-_hard_.” Bill covers up his awkwardness with a joke—it’s an inside joke between him and Finn, that he always says his last name with an emphasis on ‘hard.’ The truth was, Bill was so shocked that Finn called, he just didn’t pick it up. He stared at it, and stared, and stared…until it went to voicemail. 

He honestly couldn’t say why he didn’t just pick up the phone. He supposed that it’s because, he has this connection with Finn that was very…personal, and he didn’t want to screw it up. 

They both knew how alike their characters were in _IT: Chapter Two_, and, in reality, they were _also_ shockingly alike. It almost scared Bill, because he didn’t want Finn to end up like him. 

Sure, Bill Hader was successful—very successful. That’s not the problem. The problem with his life goes deeper than that, and that’s what fame does sometimes. That’s what _fear_ does. It messes with your psyche, and he just…doesn’t want that for Finn. He can’t think about it too much. It makes his brain hurt.

“No, you’re really not a douchebag. Anyway…” Finn trails off, “Umm…” _Smooth,_ Finn thinks to himself.

Bill can hear the anxiety in Finn’s voice, just like he did in his message. “Hey,” Bill says, hoping that his voice is calm, “what is it? Is there something going on?” 

Finn starts again, “Uh, well, I was wondering. You know that I turn eighteen tomorrow…do you think we could, I don’t know, hang out or something?” Finn looks down and finds that he is gripping the sheets of his bed so hard that his knuckles are white. He loosens his grip. _Please say yes._ He thinks.

Bill replies quickly, “You wanna hang out with _me_ on your birthday?” He was touched by that, actually. “No party or anything?” 

Finn wrinkled his nose. “I’m not into parties, usually. I’m doing things with friends and family today, like an early celebration. We’ll probably just have cake or something.” His voice drifted off.

Bill laughs once. They really _are_ alike, even still. Bill doesn’t like parties either. “Well, what do you wanna do? You could come over to my place, we could order in, whatever you want! My treat.”

Finn smiles widely, “Hell yes! That’d be awesome.”

Bill smiles, suddenly wishing he was on one of those old landlines he grew up with—the ones with the long cords. He loved to toy with the cord while talking to people to relieve his anxiety. God, he hasn’t thought about that in—there’s that headache.

“Sweet. I can pick you up, since traffic is nuts in LA—you’d never find a spot to park in. How ‘bout 6?”

“That’s, yes. I mean, good. Thanks.” Finn says awkwardly. He clears his throat. “Thanks Bill. I’ll see you tomorrow. Should I bring anything?”

Bill thinks about that. “Well…if you want, you can just stay the night. I’ve got a couch you can crash on.” He doesn’t know what time they’ll be done, and Bill doesn’t really want to drive late at night across town. 

Finn nods, blushing. “Yeah,” he squeaked, “I mean, that’d be great.”

Bill just says, “Alrighty. Later.” 

Finn drops his phone on the bed and lies back down. He grabs his pillow and groans into it. _Thank God he said yes, _he thinks to himself. Finn’s emotions are all over the place, because he knows what he has to tell Bill, and he doesn’t know _how_. 

He realizes that there’s wetness on his cheeks, streaming down both sides. He’s not sure why he’s crying, because overall, he’s pretty happy he’s going to get this off his chest. This confusion has been so heavy. 

But he can’t help but have doubts—maybe he should just see how the night goes with Bill, and tell him some other time. Or, maybe he should just rip off the band-aid and confess his feelings. Then again, he doesn’t know how Bill would react. 

Finn is young, _and_ Bill is probably straight. Finn should probably leave out the part where he

_(really) _

likes Bill

_(a lot)_.

Finn hears himself sob, and it hits him that he’s _really_ crying now. He tries to quiet himself, and he does, for a few moments. He’s been waiting for this moment, this _day_, tomorrow, for so fucking long—he forgot how much he really felt.

All those memories on set are rushing back, Bill’s smile, Bill’s laugh. When they were doing press together, it took so much energy to focus on the questions, and not on Bill’s face. He was only 15 at the time…he didn’t want Bill to think he had some stupid teenage crush.

Yes, he was still a teenager, but tomorrow he wouldn’t be a minor. 

Finn wiped his cheeks, cleaning up his red face. 

_Am I even confused about my sexual orientation, or do I just want to see Bill Hader?_ Finn looks at himself in the mirror. He takes a breath.

**FW/BH/FW/BH/FW/BH**

Bill had cleaned up his place pretty decently. The three H’s had some toys lying around, but other than that, he just had to vacuum, which was easy enough. 

He was wearing a black zip-up jacket, covering a plain red t-shirt, and some jeans. He got a stack of movies out that he thought maybe Finn would like—or hadn’t seen before.

Bill didn’t even have music on in the car on the way there; his thoughts were loud enough to drown out everything else. He had so many questions, ones that he couldn’t ask. Finn could have chosen _anyone_ to spend his actual birthday with…and he chose Bill? 

_(Deep down, he thinks he knows why.)_

Bill had to stop thinking about it when he pulled into Finn’s driveway. Finn must have been watching right by the door, though, because he was already opening it to head out. He had a medium sized bag with him, probably with clothes and a toothbrush or something teenager-y. 

“Heyyyyy!” Bill smiled brightly at him, and Finn smiled back widely. He did a little wave, pulling the car door shut, “Hey Bill!” He immediately went in for a hug. 

Bill was a little surprised by that, but he hugged him back all the same. 

_(He remembers a similar hug, years ago, washing up in his brain like seashells on the beach.)_

He patted Finn’s back, moving away. “So I guess you’re a _man_ now?” 

Finn looks happily flushed. “Hah. As long as I can still play video games.”

Bill saw the slight tinge on Finn’s cheeks, but didn’t think on it. He starts the car, backing out. 

“How far is your place?” Finn said, squeaking the first word. Bill’s car smelled clean and woodsy. He silently wonders if Bill wears cologne. _Fuck, should I have worn a cologne?_ He instantly negates himself: _What am I thinking, of course not._ _This isn’t a date. Bill would _laugh_ at me if I told him that…I’m just going to come out to him. That’s all._

“Hmm,” Bill hums, “depends on traffic, but probably twenty minutes.” _I HAVE to relax_, Bill thinks, _it’s just Finn. It’ll be fine. Innocent and fine._

Finn looks at the speed gauge. “Don’t tell me: you’re a speed-demon.” He says, his voice dripping in sarcasm.

Bill scoffs playfully at him, “Listen, kiddo—I mean, young man—I’m careful on the streets. _Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that._” He says in an almost Al Pacino voice.

Finn raises a brow. He chuckles, “What, having a mid-life crisis already?” He snorts.

Bill laughed, “I forgot how angsty you are! No, it’s just, with other people in the car, I tend to drive slower.” He shrugs.

Finn wore a smile. He turns up the radio a little. “Metallica. Nice.”

Bill’s eyes open wider. “Uh…did you turn 18 or 43?”

“I can know about Metallica!” Finn strikes back with a smug look. 

Bill looks over at him. Finn is smiling widely toward the road. “I’m glad you do.” Finn looks over at him, and their eyes catch for a brief moment, before Bill has to look at the road again. Finn felt a shiver run down his spine. “Uh, thanks.”

The rest of the car ride, there was some light conversation, but not much. Finn said he had cake, Bill asked what kind. Finn said, your mom’s favorite kind. Then, Finn thought Bill was going to pass out from laughter. 

_(And Finn realized just how much he missed that harmonious sound.)_

They were parking when that happened, shutting the doors of the car. Finn was having such a good time, his filter wasn’t even on when he blurted out, “I missed your laugh, man!”

_(Just how long has it been?)_

Bill was glad he was on the other side of the car so that he could hide his embarrassing blush. Finn stopped in his tracks. 

Bill was now in front of Finn, who was wide-eyed. He looked at Finn’s curls. His fingers sifted through them, but he quickly pulled his hand back, because Finn’s face was turning pink. “Your locks are, what do the kids say? _On point._” He pretends to have a foreign accent. “I am, how do you say? _Old._ Yes, _old_.” His hand feels like it’s on fire, and he feels like an idiot for touching Finn’s hair. _Shit, get a grip, this is ridiculous._ He thinks to himself, masking his feelings perfectly.

That makes Finn’s blush go away, glad that Bill side-stepped his previous comment. “Come on, you are _not _old. Well, not that old.” 

Bill opens the door to his place, rolling his eyes. “Finnie, I’m ancient.” He holds the door open for him. 

Finn shakes his head, finally looking him in the eyes, face to face. He lets out a breath and says, “Yeah, only if “ancient,”” he does air quotations, licking his lips, “means breathtaking.” He felt lighter after saying this to Bill. Just a piece of that heavy weight was off of his back. It was enough for now. He hadn’t planned on it, but the opportunity was there.

Bill smiled at first, thinking Finn was being goofy, then he saw the seriousness on Finn’s face. His smile changed from a _yeah, right_ expression to _oh, seriously?_

Bill honestly didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just didn’t. There was something about Finn’s tone that made him question everything. He knew it was wrong to think about Finn in any sort of non-platonic way, but he couldn’t help but think that Finn had an attraction to him, too. If he’s being completely honest, it had been _so_ long since they’d seen each other, he doesn’t know how he feels. He knows that it can’t be good, right? 

Christ, he shouldn’t even be thinking about Finn this way. His smooth skin. His brown shining eyes. The perfectly kempt locks he felt earlier with his hand. Why did he even do that? His hand just reached out to touch Finn, as if it came naturally. _I gotta stop thinking about that._

Bill’s mind was spinning, and he felt like he needed a drink all of a sudden.

He watches as Finn goes into his apartment, turning on the lights. “Wow…this place is amazing.” 

“You really think so?” Bill hears himself ask. He’s unsure of which comment of Finn’s he’s truly addressing. Bill is still standing in the same place, with the door held open. He closes it, locking the door, turning back. How long had he been standing there? 

He doesn’t know, but he feels _really _thrown for a loop. 

Bill studies Finn’s build, just to convince himself that the earlier waves of emotion he had were nothing to be concerned about. Finn’s still looking around, so he doesn’t see Bill looking. Finn has a bout of confidence, suddenly, exploring the living area with a smile creeping on his lips, his eyes gleaming beautifully in the light. Bill watches him as if he’s in slow motion. 

He nods, looking Bill up and down. “Yeah. Totally.” He smirks.

Bill almost forgot what question he was answering—but then he remembered, like a tidal wave crashing against his skin. His eyes widened like saucers, and he found himself moistening his lips as Finn gave him a once-over. His breath catches, and then Finn turns around, with his tight jeans, and his fit shirt…

Bill gulps, his eyes almost stinging from not blinking for so long. He breaks his own mental dilemma with his voice, “_So!_ I actually have something for this occasion…” He goes excitedly to the fridge. 

Finn curiously walks over to the spacious kitchen. He likes the layout of Bill’s apartment—his TV is huge, and so is his blu-ray collection next to the black leather couch. There’s just a hallway with some rooms to their right. Simplistic, but cozy. 

Finn tries to see what it is, but he can’t quite make it out. His eyes widen from what he sees. 

“You got me a beer?” He says with a large smile. “Sweet!”

Bill snorts at his reaction, “Just _one,_ okay? No telling.” He puts a finger over his lips. “Can you imagine the headlines? Creepy SNL guy allows underage drinking.” He shakes his head and laughs. 

Finn takes the beer. “Angry Orchard? Cool.” He tries to open it with his hand. 

Bill laughs softly and gets out the bottle opener. “Here ya go, man. Don’t bleed tryin’ to get that thing off.”

Finn chuckles, “Wait, you’re having one too, right?” 

Bill nods, “Yep, just one, with you.” He smiles. “What do you want to eat, by the way? I’ve got stuff here, but we could order anything.”

Finn shrugs, “I’d be down for Jimmy Johns or something.” He pulls out his phone. “I have the app.”

Bill scratches his head, “Well, you’d better do it then. I didn’t even know they _had_ an app.”

Finn laughs, “Well, after this, I’m turning off my phone. I know you don’t like social media.” Finn’s already putting in what he wants. “Hey, what do you want?” 

After Bill takes the phone and puts in his sandwich, he says, “You don’t, like, _have_ to turn off your phone. If you don’t want to. This is _your_ birthday!” He says excitedly. 

Finn shakes his head, “No…I never get to see you. I want to remember today.”

That’s very touching to Bill, despite his confusion. It’s a sweet thing of Finn to say. 

He gives Finn a soft smile. Finn smiles down at the phone and places the order.

“So, did you see any movies you were interested in?” Bill asks. 

Finn scratches his chin, thumbing through the movies. “Man, they’re all so good. How many movies do you think you’ve seen?”

Bill’s forehead wrinkles show when his eyes widen, “Like, _EVER_?”

Finn chuckles, “Yeah!”

Bill wears the same expression. “Uhm…_Jesus_.” He laughs, “Well, it’s gotta be at least two thousand, so…” 

Finn raises his brows, “_Woah._” He laughs, “Okay, let’s watch your favorite.”

Literally saved by the bell, Bill pays for the food, grabbing everything for Finn. He says, “Hey, you haven’t drank your beer yet!” He gets it and clinks his to Finn’s. “Happy Birthday!”

Finn smiles widely, “Thanks man…” He tastes it and licks his lips. “Oh wow that’s really good…”

He drinks more and then coughs. Bill pats his back and laughs, “Go easy, will ya?”

Finn remembers, “Hey, you never said what your favorite movie is, out of these anyway.”

Bill hums, “Such a hard question.” He thinks really hard about it. 

Finn raises a brow. “You’re such a cenophile.”

Bill smiles and laughs, “Yeah, it’s ridiculous. Uhhh…I’d go with _Ferris Bueller’s Day Off_…it’s a classic. Plus, I think you’ll like it. You’ve seen it, right?”

Finn nods, “Oh yeah, of course. It’s been a while, though.” He smiles. He bites into the sandwich in front of him, and Bill does the same before popping in the movie.

As they eat and watch the film, Bill does impressions of the teacher who says ‘_Bueller?’_ That makes Finn laugh. Finn tries, but he can’t quite get it right. It sounds more nasal-y.

“Here’s one thing I don’t get,” Finn says after taking a swig of beer, “is there a trick to doing impressions, or do you just…you know…_do_ them?”

Bill smiles, “I dunno man. It just takes practice.”

Finn looks at Bill determinedly, “Teach me one. Al Pacino, maybe?”

Bill can’t help but crack up, smacking a hand on his knee. “_You_, want to do Al Pacino?? _That’s what you pick?_” Finn laughs with Bill, “Well yeah! Who else would I pick?”

Bill shakes his head, “Someone who you might find more relevant, maybe. But hey,” he throw his hands up with a giggle, “if Finn Wolf_hard_,” he pauses, “wants to learn Al Pacino…he gets what he wants.”

Finn scoots closer to Bill on the couch. “Wait! Better idea.” That look in Finn’s eyes makes Bill nervous.

“Er, what?” Bill says awkwardly, with his arms crossed. 

“I bet I could do an impression of you—but you have to do me first.” Finn says with a cocky grin.

Bill uncrosses his arms and thinks, “Uhm…I feel like you’d be,” he stands up, walking a little awkwardly, “kind of like _this_, but cool at the same time, like an awkward cool person.” He walks confidently, but a little lopsided. “And this is you in that one interview we did, okay? ‘_I cook!’_” It sounded just like him.

Finn doubled over in laughter. “Oh my god. Is that how I walk?”

Bill sits back down laughing, and Finn thinks, he looks really gorgeous when he’s happy. “I can’t say much, because it’s kind of like how I walk, so yeah.” Bill says in between hard fits of laughter.

Finn says, “Okay, okay, let me do you.” Bill spits out an “okay” between the laughter. 

Finn clears his throat. He crosses his arms and looks kind of serious with his brows creased. His eyes dart a little, not making eye contact at first. “Uh, hi, I’m Bill Hader. I uh, I guess I’m like an award winning fashion star, or something.” Then Finn laughs a bit at the end.

Bill’s eyes are wide and he nearly shouts, “Holy fucking shit! That was SO good!”

Finn goes back to his normal state, and blushes, “No, it was _not_.”

“Uh, yeah it fuckin’ _was_.” Bill says.

Finn sighs, looking down at his hands in his lap. They’re sitting fairly close now, not touching thighs, but close to it. Finn looks like he’s thinking deeply about something. 

Bill lays a hand on his shoulder for a couple seconds, which catches Finn’s attention. “Hey…you okay?”

Finn looks at Bill with wide eyes, almost scared. “Uh…well. There’s kind of something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I need advice on something. But I haven’t told anyone this.” He looks down. 

“What’s up? It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone.” He says with concern. 

Finn sighs, “Uh,” he looks at Bill, “I like guys. I honestly don’t know if I like girls or not. They’re okay. I guess. And…” Bill looks at him with understanding as he continues, “…don’t take this the wrong way, but I was wondering, you know how on SNL you kissed tons of guys?”

Bill finds himself nodding, “Yeah I did.” He feels his cheeks heat up.

Finn starts again, “Well, if this is too personal—”

“No, it’s fine, really.” Bill says with a smile. “You _know_ I’m not going to look at you differently knowing you’re attracted to guys, right?”

Finn nods, letting out a breath. “Thanks Bill. Thank you.” He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous. It isn’t like Bill is homophobic. 

Bill just goes to give him a hug, which catches Finn by surprise. Bill feels Finn trembling in his arms—he rubs calming circles on Finn’s back. 

Finn inhales. Bill smells intoxicatingly nice. 

“Thanks.” Finn repeats. Bill brings a hand up to Finn’s neck to hug him tighter, then murmurs, “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

Finn whispers in Bill’s ear, “Did you like the guys you kissed?”

Bill almost goes still with Finn in his arms. Finn tightens his grip on Bill’s back, “I’m sorry…”

Bill reluctantly pulls away and says, “No, really, it’s okay. It’s just…I don’t really have a label.”

Finn creases his brows, “I don’t either. But…what did you do about it?”

Bill thinks first, then says, “I was married, and I was too in love with her to think about anything else.” He shrugs. “Plus it was just acting. It’s not totally real.”

Finn raises his brows. “It’s kinda real.”

Bill shrugs, “Yeah, kinda.” 

Finn opens his mouth, then closes it. “Have you thought about it?”

Bill looks confused. “About what? The kissing?” Finn nods. Bill clasps his hands together. “I used to. Now I just…I’m okay being alone.” He looks sad—there’s a numbness in his eyes that Finn can almost feel. “I try not to think about it.” He says in a ghost of a whisper.

Finn finds himself reaching for Bill’s clasped hands, resting one of his on them. It snaps Bill out of his daze, and now his sad eyes are on Finn’s. 

“I’ve thought about it.” Finn murmurs. His eyes match Bill’s in this moment, a unified understanding of loneliness. Even though Bill has questions swirling around in his mind, he thinks he knows what Finn means. He recognizes it.

Finn’s breath hitches, then he gets his breath back. “It’s not wrong, you know…to think about it.” There’s a hidden message in Finn’s eyes, one that Bill understands perfectly. All the pieces are clicking together. Bill’s brain is scrambling to catch up with his heart. How do you explain an attraction that you really, _really_ shouldn’t have? 

Bill has morals, he swears he does, but when he looks into Finn’s gleaming brown eyes, and watches his lips turn into a wide smile, there’s something that happens to him. It reminds him of something he’s repressed for years, something he can’t quite name—it feels ancient in the pit of his stomach.

_That doesn’t make it right_, Bill thinks to himself. He pinches his eyes shut for a moment. He opens them. Finn is young—that’s what it comes down to. He’s too fucking young. 

“Finn…I don’t know.” Bill whispers, his hand grasping Finn’s. 

Finn looks at Bill, inching closer. There’s a soft puff of a laugh that escapes his mouth, “I don’t know either…but…I can’t help how I feel.” His words echo Bill’s thoughts.

Bill looks at Finn, inching closer, feeling his heart beating out of his chest. He can’t think about anything, can’t say anything, he can barely even _breathe_. He watches Finn, and he feels his own face inching forward. 

_(It doesn’t _feel_ wrong.)_

Finn’s eyes close as he presses his lips to Bill’s. There’s a soft moan from him. Bill closes his eyes, feeling the sensation of plush lips moving against his. All those burdening thoughts wash away. 

_(_This isn’t wrong._)_

Finn turns his head a bit to get more access and he opens his mouth. Bill’s tongue is already finding its way to Finn’s mouth, kissing him in earnest. Their hands are no longer clenched together—Bill’s hand is in Finn’s hair, feeling the curls like he had earlier that night. Finn has a hand on Bill’s forearm, pulling him closer and closer. Their kiss gets more intense, and they don’t dare break apart, because that would mean they’d have to think about what was happening. 

_(Why is he so good at this?)_

Bill moans, and that makes Finn nearly crawl into his lap, wrapping his arms around him. Bill tries to speak, “Finn—”

But Finn is persistent, and captures his lips again, grinding their clothed cocks together. He whimpers, wrapping his arms around Bill.

Bill has to break apart for a moment. He looks at Finn’s reddened lips, his half-lidded gaze. “What…what are we doing?” 

Finn lets out some air, “I had to wait…until I turned eighteen.”

Bill touches Finn’s cheek. Finn leans into it. Bill rasps, “How long? Waited how long?”

_(My whole life…)_

Finn nearly purrs into Bill’s touch, “A few years, since _IT: Chapter Two_…”

Bill gets a little lost in Finn’s brown eyes. “You’re sure…I mean, can we really do this? _Should_ we?” He looks away, conflicted.

Finn kisses away his question chastely, surprising Bill. “Well, how do you feel when I do that?”

Bill’s heart races. Finn looks into his deep blue eyes. “God, like I _want_ to…” He stops himself. “No-no, we can’t do that. I mean, just because we both _want_ to…it doesn’t make it right.” He closes his eyes for a second before opening them again, “People will think…God, I don’t want to know.” He shakes his head.

Finn bites his lip. “Bill…you’re not married—you can do what you want. I’m legal now.” His voice has a begging undertone. “It’s just me, you know. We’re friends…and as your friend, I think you deserve to be with who you want. 

“We can’t worry about what people might think, because they’ll criticize us no matter what—not that I’ll be running to tell the tabloids.” He reaches for Bill’s hand, lacing their fingers together. 

Finn smiles sadly, “Since when did you care about what people think anyway?”

Bill knows that is technically true. _Everything_ Finn is saying is true. It’s just so strange to think about. 

“If I was twenty,” Finn suggests, “you’d be more okay with it. It’s just a number.” He licks his lips, “Besides…it can just be between us.” 

Bill cocks his head to the side. “Yeah…but, you really don’t care that I’m, you know…prehistoric?” He smiles sadly, laughing once. Surely, Finn would want someone younger. 

Finn shakes his head, looking into Bill’s worried blue eyes. “You’re such a great guy, Bill. At first, I thought I just admired you…but then I realized it was more than that, on set.” He feels so raw from spilling his feelings, he lets go of Bill’s hand. “I don’t want you to have to sacrifice anything for me—we can pretend like this didn’t happen, and that I didn’t make a complete idiot out of myself.” Finn looks down, feeling tears pooling in his eyes. 

“I’m so sorry…” He whispers.

Bill gently places his thumb and forefinger on his chin, lifting Finn’s head to meet his gaze. Bill says in a gentle voice, “Don’t _ever_ be sorry for how you feel.”

Finn’s surprise catches him off-guard; when he blinks, the tears roll down his face. Bill wipes them away, thinking about all of this. He _knows_ that he has feelings for Finn. 

At this point, the person in his way is himself—not the media, not anyone else. Is he really going to sacrifice his happiness? God knows he’s sacrificed enough for his acting gigs—it practically ruined his marriage, and stole away precious time he could have spent with his children. Bill never wanted fame. He wanted to direct, to write. 

_(To live.)_

And now, looking at Finn’s broken look on his face, he knows he can’t just turn away from his fears anymore. If Richie could face his fears, then he could too, right? 

“Y-your friendship is really important to me; I don’t want to lose you as a friend.” Finn sputters out, gaining control of his emotions. It’s hard for Finn to be so close to someone he’s fantasized about for so long, but he tries his best to backtrack. 

Bill’s done thinking—he’s made up his mind. He murmurs, “You’re _not_ gonna lose me.” He watches Finn’s expression go from worried to relieved.

Bill quickly closes the gap between them, hearing Finn’s shocked mewl. Bill kisses Finn’s lips tenderly this time, not caring about anything else other than memorizing how he feels, how he sounds, and how he tastes. 

It’s moving and heartwarming, hot and understanding. Finn’s arms wrap around Bill, like before, and Bill runs his hands up Finn’s back. Bill lets out a groan as Finn grinds his hips against his waist.

When they break apart this time, Finn looks into Bill’s eyes and whispers, “Can we?” He traces a finger along Bill’s jaw, which Bill thinks is incredibly hot. 

Bill swallows hard and nods, “_Yeah_. Yeah, we can.” 

He connects their lips again before moving to get up. He nearly crashes into them into the kitchen counter, but then he finds his footing, leading them to his bedroom down the hall. Finn is also off-balance, especially when Bill is kissing him so perfectly, leaving him breathless. 

They finally make it. Bill finds himself tearing off his clothing, throwing his jacket somewhere. 

Finn looks around after taking off his shirt—only having time to note, this is Bill’s bedroom, and Bill has stunning abs, before being kissed again. Finn unzips Bill’s jeans, pulling them down.

Bill then takes off Finn’s pants while he’s sitting on the bed. He doesn’t want to go farther than Finn wants to. This means too much for that to happen.

Finn feels Bill’s hard chest, up and down, looking into his heated blue eyes. “Bill…I don’t know how to do this.” His voice is soft and heartbreaking.

Bill quickly takes Finn’s hands and melts onto the bed with him, taking his mouth deeply. “S’okay.” He murmurs between sloppy kisses. He reaches underneath Finn’s boxers to feel his unbelievably hard length. Finn gasps for breath. Bill tightens his grip, sliding the boxers down with the other hand. 

Finn’s cheeks are red and flushed, his eyes lusty and glazed over. Bill takes off his boxers quickly before returning to admire Finn. He gathers his cock in one hand, kissing his neck, his jaw, his collarbone. 

When Bill strokes his hard length, Finn shudders, “_Bill_…” Bill does it again, feeling the precum seep onto his hand. 

He wants to make sure Finn’s okay. He strokes his cheek, “You alright with this?”

Finn nods and whines, “Please,” before clawing at Bill’s back, “_please_.”

Bill’s eyes widen with lust as he pumps Finn harder. He asks urgently, “You want…my mouth?”

Finn’s entire body jolts upward at the question, his cock gaining friction in Bill’s hand. Bill kisses his way down Finn’s body, not taking much time at all before taking Finn into his mouth. 

His length is girthy, and it tastes kind of sweet, kind of salty. It lengthens in his mouth, like rock hard velvet under his tongue. He swirls his tongue around. The sounds Finn makes resemble pure lust.

Finn’s hands are suddenly on Bill’s head. He whimpers, “_I_…_I’m close_…” Bill sucks him down to the hilt, cradling his balls. Finn’s body jolts forward again, and he wails, “_BILL!_” His come is shooting down Bill’s throat—Bill doesn’t even gag, surprising himself. He continues to suck Finn through his orgasm.

His body goes limp, and Bill gently pulls off of him. Finn tugs on Bill’s shoulder, and Bill meets him in a sloppy kiss. Finn smiles into it—Bill does too, incredibly happy. His erection pokes into Finn’s stomach, and Finn looks down at him, licking his freshly-kissed lips. 

The look he gives Bill is almost primal. His hand wraps around the hard member, and he groans when Bill’s cock leaks precum. He can feel himself getting hard again. 

He looks at Bill, who seems to be at his mercy. “Uh…” He doesn’t know how to ask this. 

Bill cradles his face with both hands, kissing him breathless again. “Tell me what you want, Finn.” Finn kisses him hard, moaning, “I…want you _in_ me.”

“Yeah?” Bill asks, tracing Finn’s lip with a finger, “You sure?”

Finn murmurs, “I’m sure—is that what you want?” 

Bill smirks, making Finn blush, “I want _you_. _All_ of you.” He husks. 

Finn thinks he might faint. His cock is rock hard again. He kisses Bill with tender urgency. Bill melts into the kiss, topping Finn. He reaches blindly for the lubricant he keeps in his nightstand. He doesn’t even know if it’s good anymore, but he’s not sure if it even matters. It hasn’t even been opened—he’s just had it in his drawer as a precaution, ever since he got his own place. 

“Hey, Bill—” Finn murmurs. Bill parts from him, looking into Finn’s wide eyes. He looks at the lubricant, then back at Bill. “I…” he blushes, “I was wondering—have you ever done this? With a man, I mean?”

Bill sits upright, holding Finn in his lap. He runs a hand through some of Finn’s curls, giving him a soft smile. He shakes his head, “Mm-mm, no…just women.” He cups Finn’s cheek. Finn gives him a wide smile.

Bill smiles back at him, chuckling a little, “What?”

Finn shakes his head playfully, “I dunno, I’m just happy I guess.” He takes the lube from Bill’s hands, giggling. 

Bill tries to get it from him, “Heyy—give that back!” They roll so that Bill is on top again, their hard cocks rubbing together. Both men moan, despite their small bout of laughter, as Bill tries to get the lubricant back. He distracts Finn by looking into his eyes, cupping his cheek. Finn goes silent and still, watching Bill inch closer. 

Hot lips meet his, and Finn goes completely slack underneath him. He moans, and Bill grabs the lubricant from his hands.

Bill kisses his neck and whispers, “Gotcha…” He laughs.

Finn laughs back, “That was just _unfair_.” Despite it, he spreads his legs apart. Bill kisses his way down, making sure he spends time equally everywhere, giving Finn the attention he deserves. 

After a bit of nipping and kissing, he slinks down to Finn’s ass. Spreading the cheeks wide, he tongues Finn’s hole, surprised at how good it actually tastes.

“Mmm…” Finn moans, “woah.” He says in shock, when Bill slips his tongue inside his puckered hole. His hand has a mind of its own, as he threads through Bill’s hair, squirming under his ministrations. 

Bill loves how Finn tastes down here, but he knows that his fingers can reach further. He pulls out reluctantly, slicking just one finger with lubricant at first. That tight ring of muscle is a little looser, a little easier to slide past. He looks up at Finn, who appears to be completely at his mercy, which only makes him want to move this along. He adds another finger, and Finn bites his lip. He wants to make sure he doesn’t hurt him. 

He curls his fingers just so, trying to find Finn’s prostate. “Oh! Fuck!” Finn whines.

Bill does it again, stretching him as much as he can. Finn’s body jolts, and, to his disbelief, when Bill inserts a third finger to stretch him, a stripe of cum paints his stomach after his prostate is deliciously brushed. 

Bill feels rather than hears the low groan in his throat. He slicks his cock with the lube, then he looks at Finn, who has his head thrown back onto the pillows. Bill sucks up the cum on Finn’s stomach, earning a shocked mewl from the younger man.

He feels a hand on his face. “…Bill.” Finn whispers in a begging voice. He has tears in his eyes. 

Bill wonders if he pushed too far. “Shit, Finn, I didn’t hurt you did I?” He panics, kissing Finn’s hand. 

Finn shakes his head, tears streaming down the sides of his face, leaving trails. “No, _no_, please keep going. It just feels so _good_.” 

Bill kisses him, aligning himself to Finn’s entrance. He leans in to kiss Finn’s neck, slowly sliding inward. 

“Aaahh_hh_…_fuck_…” Finn whines, clawing at Bill’s muscular back. 

Bill growls into Finn’s ear, “_God_...you feel so fucking perfect…” And he really does—it’s a perfect, tight heat. 

Finn wraps his legs around Bill, nipping at his neck. “Finn…” Bill groans, “you okay?”

Finn kisses his lips in response, giving him tongue. Bill slides all the way in. They both gasp, lips resting on each other’s. In that silent moment, with their arms around each other, Bill moves ever so slowly, trying to find that spot to drive Finn wild.

Finn reaches down to grab his cock, but Bill shoos his hand away, pinning Finn’s hand above his head. “Not yet.” He growls. Finn nods vicariously, “I’ll wait. I’ll wait.”

Bill thrusts in and finds that sensitive area within the younger man. The wail that Finn gives him is loud and whiny, his hair in Bill’s hands as he _thrusts_ again, this time lacing their fingers together, with the hand that’s pinned above Finn’s head. Finn’s gaze snaps to Bill’s, looking up at the dominant glint in his eyes, so aroused by it.

His mouth parts prettily when he gasps for breath. “_Bill_.”

He thrusts again, faster this time, with more purpose, and again, and _again_. “Finn!” Bill hears himself say lowly, with a thrust, and another. 

Finn feels his cock brushing up against Bill’s rippling chest, and it’s honestly enough to drive him wild without his hand. He whines into Bill’s neck, the one that he’s bitten several times now, “_Billll_, I’m _so fucking close_…”

Bill listens to his voice, feeling his body nearly quiver to it, “_Fuck, Finn…me too, me too…_” 

Finn wants him to lose control. He looks into his eyes, asking pleadingly, “_Faster?_”

Bill’s pupils are wide with lust as he pounds Finn open, over and over, earning whimpers, each lovelier than the ones prior. Beautiful pleads from Finn’s lips, and his tight, tight hole, it’s too much. 

Bill watches as Finn goes still, nearly screaming Bill’s name, coming in stripes and stripes all over their stomachs. He looks such a picture, with his sweaty curls, and his tongue licking his lips, heaving as he comes steadily—his glorious cock leaking.

Bill’s eyes roll back, his face wrinkles, and as Finn comes, he comes too. The hole grips him and sucks him into his orgasm, ripping it from his body. That perfect heat, those brown eyes, soft skin. His ears are ringing, but he knows that he’s growling as he thrusts a few more times, emptying himself completely inside of Finn. 

He looks down—wondering when exactly he took Finn’s legs in his hands, then grabbed his waist and pummeled into him. He looks at the come on Finn’s chest, then upward toward his spent face. 

Finn has a hint of a smile, still trying to catch his breath. Bill mutters, “_Jesus Christ_,” pulling out of Finn, melting into him for a tender kiss. It’s slow, meaningful.

Finn sighs between kisses, “Wow.”

Bill smiles stupidly, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Finn shakes his head. “No…the opposite.” He smiles dorkily.

Bill laughs, lying next to him. He takes his boxers, lying by the bed, and wipes the come off of them, throwing the boxers wherever.

Finn chuckles, “I have _never_ come that hard in my life.”

Bill wraps an arm around him, and Finn settles into the embrace. He pulls up the blankets, snuggling at Bill’s side. “Mmmm…and you’re so warm.” Finn murmurs, yawning.

Bill yawns too, “Good thing you can’t get pregnant, huh?” 

Finn chuckles puffs of air onto Bill’s side, “Thank _god_ for that, our kid would be so dorky.”

Bill laughs, “Uh, I don’t know how to take that, Finnie.” Somehow, though, he knows exactly what Finn means. He chuckles, kissing Finn’s forehead softly.

Finn smiles into Bill’s side. He can feel Bill’s pulse as he drifts off to sleep.

**FW/BH/FW/BH/FW/BH**

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment if you liked it or want more <3
> 
> Again, thank you problematic_pleasures for this inspiration.


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